


I Love You When You Mother Me

by Deannie



Series: I Love You When [8]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-10-03
Updated: 1997-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8th in the 'I Love You When' series. Blair finishes his thesis, and he crashes hard... Well, at least something's hard.<br/>Sequel to I Love You When You're Sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love You When You Mother Me

Blair drove home in a fog, realising, when he was halfway there, that he probably shouldn't have driven home at all. It didn't matter though. All he had to do was get home this afternoon without wrapping his car around a tree, and he could sleep for days. 

It was finally finished! His dissertation! The paper he'd spent three and a half years working on, was finally done. Now, he just had to get past his defense, two weeks from now, and he could breathe easy. 

The car safely parked in the lot, he made his way upstairs, barely having the energy to pull off his clothes and get into bed. He'd been running a fever off and on for the last week, and he knew that, now that he had some downtime, this cold of his was going to hit him full force. 

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled sleepily. "Nothing matters right now except _sleep._ " 

And with that, he was fast at it, snoring congestedly in minutes.  
  


* * *

Jim fought with the door for a moment before he got the chinese takeout, the file for his current case, and the present for Blair into the apartment safely. He didn't see his lover, though he'd seen the Volvo parked outside, so he stood still and listened for a moment, hearing deeply congested breathing coming from the bed upstairs. 

Blair had crashed, as expected. But with the kid's cold factored into the equation, Jim knew that this crash would be very different from the one he'd had after he'd turned in the first draft. 

With a sigh, Jim set about making himself a quick plate of chinese food, and sat before the television, watching the news with the sound turned down until he'd finished off every bit of Moo-Shu Pork.  
  


* * *

Jim could feel his lover's fever from the stairs, and it suddenly worried him in a way that it hadn't all week. What if Blair came down so hard from this latest academic crisis that he left himself open to something worse than a cold? Jim padded quickly downstairs and grabbed the dreaded NyQuil from the medicine cabinet. He didn't care about Blair's aversion to over-the-counter drugs, right now. He just wanted to get his lover healthy.  
  


* * *

Blair felt someone shaking him gently, and roused himself with difficulty. 

"Wha?" he asked blearily. 

"Hey, Chief, drink this for me, will you?" 

Jim. When did Jim come home? Hadn't Blair just gone to sleep? Surely the sound of the older man coming home would have woken him, right? 

"Chief?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"Drink this." 

Blair obediently tilted his body up and opened his mouth. The liquid that poured into him was alcoholic and sickly sweet, and it was all he could do not to spit it out on the spot. He came fully awake now, and glared at his lover. 

"What are you trying to do!?" he gurgled indignantly. "Poison me!?" 

Jim smiled. "No, _mother_ you." 

Blair shook his head, feeling himself swallow the retched stuff out of instinct. He grimaced at the aftertaste and growled at his partner. "I don't need any mothering, Jim," he maintained angrily. 

"Yes you do, lover," Jim whispered, holding a glass of water before his partner to wash the taste out of his mouth. "You have a fever." 

"Big news," Blair grumbled, drinking the entire glass at one go. "I've had a fever for days." 

"Yes," Jim agreed. "But you had things to do, then. You don't have _anything_ to do for the entire weekend, except to lie back and let me mother you." 

Blair did lie back, still grumbling irritably. "As long as you don't stick any more of that poison in my mouth," he grated. He could still taste the stuff, and could already begin to feel the sleepy pull it always had on him. 

Jim chuckled, sliding out of his clothes and into the bed to curl around the smaller man. "I promise. If your fever's down tomorrow, no more poison." 

"Yeah, I'll believe _that_ when I see it," Blair mumbled before drifting off to sleep.  
  


* * *

The early morning sun woke Blair, and he cursed the sluggish NyQuil miasma that surrounded his brain. Jim was just too damn smart for his own good sometimes! That stuff was horrible! He'd be wandering around in a daze all day, and he had no one to blame but his lover. 

Oh well. Might as well make some tea, and see if it cleared his head. 

"Nope," Jim mumbled tiredly, capturing Blair and pulling him back into the bed. "You're not going anywhere." 

Blair squirmed for a moment. "Come on, Jim. Just let me make some tea, okay?" 

Jim could feel the diminished fever on his lover's skin, and smiled. "What kind of tea?" 

"Peppermint," Blair replied irritably. "It's good for the stomach--and a fever. And if you had let me _tell_ you that last night, I could have saved myself this hangover this morning." 

Jim ignored the outburst and rolled himself carefully over his lover and out of bed. He pulled the covers up tight around the younger man and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "I'll make it. You stay right there." 

Blair sat back angrily as he heard Jim puttering around in the kitchen. He didn't like to be mothered! Even Naomi knew that! And Jim was the worst. He'd be running around the loft all weekend long, trying to make sure Blair had everything he needed--when what he really needed was to sleep! 

Jim was coming up the stairs now, and Blair tried to hide his irritation as the older man placed a small tray in front of him. He'd added toast to the tea, and Blair had to admit that his stomach had been grumbling at him lately for not feeding it properly. 

"Thanks, Jim," he whispered, sipping at the too-hot tea. He hissed as it burned the top of his mouth, and was sarcastically surprised that Jim didn't take the stuff and blow it cool for him. 

"Is that too hot for you? Do you want an ice cube for it or something?" Jim's response might almost have been scripted, and Blair began to laugh. 

"What?" Jim asked, thoroughly confused. 

Blair put the tea down carefully on the bedside table, set the tray on the floor, and wrapped his arms around his lover, kissing the larger man soundly. It was then that his body saw fit to remind him that there were _other_ parts of him that weren't getting enough attention these days. 

Jim responded in kind until Blair began to cough. "Careful, Chief," Jim whispered after the hacking had died down. "You're going to hurt yourself." 

Blair shook his head, still smiling. "Any damage done during sex doesn't count," he declared quietly. 

His lover looked at him in shock. "You're serious?" 

Blair laughed again. "As a heart attack," he vowed, reaching forward again and trying to draw Jim down onto the bed with him. His speech liberally punctuated with kisses and nips, Blair explained the situation. "I have been _so_ busy the last month that I _never_ get to see you." 

Jim shuddered perfectly as Blair ran his thumb over the other man's nipple, and Blair smiled to himself. "Now, today? I get you all to myself." He kissed Jim soundly. "Today, you're mine." He ran his hand down his lover's body, pushing away the light robe as he went until his hand found its prize and wrapped lovingly around Jim's cock. He leaned in to whisper in the big man's ear. 

"And today, I am going to give you a celebratory fuck worthy of a PhD dissertation." 

Jim gasped as Blair loosened the grip on his erection, and began to run his fingers teasingly over Jim's balls. "Better than-- Better... than the first draft?" Jim asked breathlessly. 

Blair finished pulling off his lover's robe and kissed his way down to a nipple, sucking on it lightly, smiling as Jim groaned under his lips. "If they gave a Pulitzer Prize for sex...?" 

Jim chuckled at that, the chuckle quickly turning to a growl as Blair rolled him on his back and set to work on his all-too-sensitive stomach. He could feel Blair's fever still, but suddenly, as that feverish head reached his groin, it was much more a turn-on than a source of worry. 

Blair licked Jim's sac carefully, running his tongue maddeningly along the line of it. Jim bucked helplessly in response, and Blair knew he was ready. He reached blindly toward the bedside table, chuckling congestedly as Jim's hands found him first, pushing the lube into his outstretched fingers. 

"Waiting for this, were you?" Blair asked with a laugh. 

Jim groaned as Blair rubbed the lube over the length of his cock. "God, lover, you have _no_ idea!" 

Blair smiled down at his partner, watching Jim's eyes close beautifully as he ran his fingers over Jim's sac one more time before rearing up and impaling himself with his lover's cock. Blair groaned loudly in pleasure as he felt Jim begin to buck beneath him. 

"I think I have... _some_... idea, Jim," he gasped as Jim shifted slightly, catching his prostate before returning to the hard, gorgeous thrusts they both preferred. 

Jim gave himself over to the sensations rushing through his body, gasping sharply as Blair ran his fingers over his chest. He could feel his lover's breath get shorter, punctuated with groans of pleasure that threatened to send Jim over the edge. His eyes still closed, he groped for Blair's erection, hoping that the added stimulus would help him to hold out just a little longer. 

It didn't work, of course. The feeling of Blair's cock in his hands, as he pumped it in time to the rhythms he'd started inside the younger man's body, was too much for him, and Jim felt himself come and come hard. He could have sworn he'd just died with the proverbial smile on his face. 

And then, suddenly, Blair began to cough--the loud, wrenching cough Jim had been hearing off and on for a month now--and Jim shot up and wrapped his arms around his lover as Blair seemed to try very hard to cough up at least one lung. 

"Oh, Chief. Lover, I'm sorry," he whispered as the hacking finally slacked off, leaving Blair to snuggle exhaustedly against him. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, I--" 

Blair chuckled--well, he coughed again, but he'd _meant_ to chuckle--and turned his face up to kiss Jim lightly on the neck. "I _like_ it when you don't think, Love," he murmured. "I don't have to convince you not to mother me then." He coughed again, but he was already falling into sleep, sitting up in bed, with his partner wrapped firmly around him. "I like you taking care of me this way, much better." 

Jim laughed lightly, pulling his lover down to lie on top of him. "Sure, Blair," he whispered, reaching up a hand to run it lovingly through the younger man's curls. "Sleep now. I'll mother you later." 

Blair snuggled closer, kissing sleepily at Jim's chest. "I love you when you mother me." 

Jim smiled at the slurred speech. "Oh, really?" 

"Yep," Blair replied, sounding for all the world like an adorable little boy. 

"But I love you more when you _don't._ "  
  


* * *

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